


101 RBIs

by Antheas_Blackberry



Series: Angels (and demons) dig the long ball [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Baseball, Boston Red Sox, Crack, Crowley Was Raphael Before He Fell (Good Omens), Don't copy to another site, Fluff, Humour, M/M, Rafael Devers, Slice of Life, misuse of miracles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 18:30:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20314057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antheas_Blackberry/pseuds/Antheas_Blackberry
Summary: 1: https://twitter.com/SoxNotes/status/1163182117121138691





	101 RBIs

Crowley was sprawled across the sofa in the back room of Aziraphale’s book shop scrolling through his twitter feed. It was where he would usually be found on a late afternoon or evening. The angel was sat at his desk, a book open in front of him, his reading glasses perched on his nose. A cup of cocoa was beside him, remaining the perfect temperature, despite the fact it had been made several hours previous.

It was quiet; the only sound was the occasional turning page or Crowley’s quiet huff of disbelief or annoyance as he created havoc online. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered. The memes alone were outrageous. And hilarious. If he was still taking credit for unintentional havoc for commendation downstairs, memes would be at the top of his list.

“Hmmm?” Aziraphale murmured.

“This was _your_1 doing, wasn’t it?” Crowley asked, waving his mobile in the air.__

_ _The angel put his book down, removed his glasses, and turned to face Crowley. “What was my doing, my dear?” _ _

_ _“This!” Crowley waved his mobile again._ _

_ _Aziraphale took a sharp breath in through his nose. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re on about. And besides, I can’t see what you’re looking at!”_ _

_ _Limbs flailing, Crowley got to his feet and walked the short distance to where Aziraphale was sitting. “This!” He shoved the mobile at the angel._ _

_ _The angel took the device like he was handling a bomb. He peered at the screen. Then he looked at Crowley. He looked back at the screen again. _ _

_ _“Are you suggesting that _I_ had something to do with this?” Aziraphale’s eyebrows nearly met his hairline. _ _

_ _“Are you saying you didn’t?” Crowley crossed his arms over his chest._ _

_ _“Well, really dear. He is your namesake.” Aziraphale handed the mobile back to Crowley._ _

_ _“But I didn’t do anything!” Crowley shouted._ _

_ _Aziraphale smiled angelically. “And I believe you. I meant that as a compliment. He’s your namesake, so therefore he must be amazing.” _ _

_ _“Oh, right. Of course,” Crowley said, blushing, despite a stern warning to his corporation to cut it out immediately._ _

_ _Aziraphale picked up his reading glasses and slipped them back on. He was about to return to his book, when he turned again and looked at the demon._ _

_ _“Any news on . . .?” He began._ _

_ _Crowley shook his head. “Not a word.”_ _

_ _The angel pursed his lips. “Well, the fact that he’s seeing Dr Andrews is a very bad sign.”_ _

_ _“Yup,” Crowley replied, the p popping, echoing in the otherwise quiet book shop. He sighed. “It’d take a miracle,” he said, with a resigned laugh. He sank back onto the sofa._ _

_ _“Indeed.” It would certainly take a miracle to save this season at all, Aziraphale thought._ _

**Author's Note:**

> 1: https://twitter.com/SoxNotes/status/1163182117121138691


End file.
